


On the Run

by magequisition



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Urban Fantasy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-05-19
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-01-25 18:40:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1658498
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/magequisition/pseuds/magequisition
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a world where magic is known but banned, telekinetic Emma Swan has been on the run since she was a teenager to protect herself and her family from the people in power. She's used to being alone, but when she meets the mysterious and dangerous Killian Jones at a bus station, he seems unwilling to let that stand. But are either of them as dangerous as they seem?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Emma turned the corner and glanced at her watch before breaking into a run. The slap of her worn sneakers against the pavement echoed in her ears as she covered the several blocks to her tiny apartment. When she got there, she unlocked the building door and went upstairs, dropping her purse on the floor as she stepped inside the suite and moved to collapse on the ancient mattress on the floor which served as her bed.

Even after all this time, it never got easier. Sure, she'd been on the run since she was sixteen, stealing whatever food and money she could to help her get by, but she never felt truly safe until she'd hid out wherever she was staying at the time and could convince herself she hadn't been caught. And so far, she hadn't been. Sure, she hadn't exactly planned on becoming a thief, but she was good at it and besides, what else was she supposed to do when her powers manifested? She couldn't tell her parents – she loved and trusted them, but the penalties for not reporting magic were nearly as severe as those for having it, and she wasn't willing to put them in that kind of jeopardy – and her abilities became harder to control with each passing day. So she ran. She loaded her backpack with all the clothes and food she could manage and left a simple two word note - “I'm sorry” - on the dinner table before leaving quietly in the middle of the night. Five years had passed and while the physicality of it all was getting easier, since things like getting apartments and not being treated like a criminal automatically just for being a teenager were no longer problems, she still struggled with the life. She had a few friends, other magical people like herself, but saw them only rarely; it was widely agreed that spending too much time together could draw attention and put them in greater danger. Contact with her family, of course, was purely out of the question.

Once she'd managed to regulate her breathing and was simply sprawled over her blanket and staring at the ceiling, she sat up and moved to pick up her purse where she'd dropped it. Sitting down again, she opened it and began to sort through her recent acquisitions at the department store. Two chocolate bars, a new facecloth, and a wallet that she comforted herself with the thought that she hadn't _really_ stolen, she'd found it on the ground, and she fully intended on returning it (after emptying it of cash). She unwrapped one of the chocolate bars and with a flick of her eyes sent the crinkled plastic flying across the room into the wastepaper basket. She took a slow bite of the chocolatey-caramelly-biscuity mess and chewed as she opened the wallet, dumping the cash onto her bed and setting the purple canvas aside. She counted the money carefully and smiled when she discovered nearly $200 in front of her. Devouring the chocolate in two more quick bites, she stretched out her hand towards the floor and felt her own wallet fly into it. She tucked the cash inside and dropped her wallet back into her purse before flopping down onto her back and considering what would seem less suspicious – returning the wallet to the store now, or the next day? She'd just decided on the latter option when a loud knock sounded at her door. Heart pounding, she sat bolt upright and paused as another knock echoed through the tiny apartment. Emma stood up and moved towards the door, hand on the small pocketknife she always carried as she placed a hand on the doorknob. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly as she pulled the door open. 

“Hey, Emma.” Her landlord stood in front of her. Emma breathed a sigh of relief.

“Neal. Hi,” Emma said. “What's up?”

“Look, Emma...” Neal said, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his neck. “I've been trying to go easy on you, I know you're between jobs and all, but this is the third month in a row you've been late on rent.” He paused for a minute before continuing. “If you don't get it to me by Friday, I'm going to have to ask you to leave. I hate to do it, Emma, but I can't afford to have this place occupied and not paid on time.”

Emma bit her lip. “Yeah, of course. I'll try to get it to you before then,” she said. “Sorry, Neal.”

“No, I'm sorry, Emma. I do like you, really. You're quiet and you don't mess around with drugs or anything. You're a good tenant. But I've got bills to pay, you know?” Neal said quickly.

“Yeah, yeah. I've got it, Neal. I'll do what I can by Friday. Thanks for coming by.” Emma shut the door quickly, locking it before turning and sinking to the floor, her back against the door and her forehead on her hands. It was time to move on yet again.

She left the next morning, whatever belongings she could fit in her backpack shoved in there and everything else left behind. She stuffed the found wallet from the day before into her pocket and walked out of the apartment, moving quickly past Neal's office. It was silly, she knew – the door was closed, and so it wasn't like he could see her – but attempting to move stealthily had become so much a part of her daily activity that it had become automatic, even in situations where it wasn't necessary. She stopped at the customer service desk of the grocery store as she walked aimlessly, still unsure of where she was going. Her usual spiel in this kind of situation,  _I found this yesterday outside the store, I'm so sorry I didn't come right in with it but I was late for work and I had to run but I wanted to bring it back in case the owner came for it,_ worked like a charm and the brown-eyed boy behind the desk smiled widely at her as he accepted it and slipped it under the counter. She left the store and continued her walk, still unsure as to where she was going. 

_Might finally be time to hop a bus out of here,_ she thought. 

*****

She stood in the Greyhound station, eyeing the list of destinations and their corresponding ticket prices that was clutched in her hand. Making her decision, she stepped towards the Plexiglass ticket window. 

“Hi,” she said to the bored-looking young woman inside who was diligently typing something into her smartphone with one hand and inspecting her nails on the other. The girl – Ruby, if her name tag was to be believed – looked up, clear irritation on her face. 

“Where to?” she asked. 

“Uh, Chilliwack,” Emma said. She didn't know how long she'd be able to stay in the small town, but it was the best option she could afford and still be able to have a little money left to get by while she got her bearings. 

“That's $22.” 

Emma pulled out a couple of bills and pushed them towards the girl through the small gap between the window and the counter. A few coins and a black and white printed ticket were slid towards her in return. 

“Your bus leaves at 6:15. Please be on time. Thank you for choosing Greyhound for your travel needs.” Ruby turned back to her nails. 

“Yeah, sure.” Emma glanced at the clock above the ticketing counter. 3:45. She decided it wasn't worth fighting the downtown Vancouver crowds and headed to the vending machines, hoping to find a snack (preferably one loaded with chocolate) to hold her over until she arrived at the new town that night. She dropped some change into the machine and pressed the buttons for a Twix bar. The spring twirled for a moment and then stopped, trapping the chocolate bar inside. 

“Oh, for fucks' sake,” Emma grumbled quietly to herself. She glanced towards the ticket booth and, noticing Ruby still engrossed with her nails, looked back at the machine and flicked her eyes down sharply, sending the now slightly mangled chocolate bar into the drop box at the bottom of the machine. She bent down to pick it up, and when she stood up there was a low, accented voice in her ear. 

“Saw that, darling.” 

Emma's breath caught in her throat and she spun around, tightening her fingers around the bar in her hand. She backed into the vending machine, trying to school her face into some semblance of calm. 

“Saw what? Me kick the machine? That a crime now?” 

“Well, technically I think it might be, but that's not what I'm talking about – since you didn't kick it at all – and the look on your face tells me you know precisely what I'm referring to.” 

“I really don't,” Emma said, “and if it's all the same to you, I'm going to go sit down and eat this now.” She held up the chocolate in front of his face and pushed past him to sit in one of the bench seats, pulling off her backpack and setting it down beside her feet. As she pulled open the wrapping, the man began to walk towards her, his long leather jacket flapping slightly around his denim-clad legs. 

“You do know, and if you don't do me a favour,” his voice was quiet, “I'm going to go over to that nice police officer there,” he inclined his head to the right, “and tell him precisely what I saw. They do have ways of proving it, you know.” 

Emma's eyes widened. “What do you want?” 

“You're going to take this,” he slipped an envelope into her hand, “and go over to that ticket counter and get me a ticket. I'm tired of the looks I get in this damn city.” 

Emma raised an eyebrow. “You want me...to buy you a bus ticket?” 

“Aye.” 

“'Aye'?” she couldn't stop the laugh from erupting. “Between that and the jacket you've got going on there, I'm half tempted to ask if you're some kind of pirate or something.” 

He rolled his eyes. “Or something. Will you do me this favour, or not?” 

“Yeah, sure dude. Whatever. You know you don't have to threaten me, right? God, for a minute there I thought you were going to ask me to kill someone. Where are you going, anyway?” 

“Chilliwack. I've got friends there.” 

_Great,_ Emma thought.  _Two hours on a bus with this whack job, and a necessary fast escape from this new town since he's got me figured out._ She stood up and walked back to the ticket counter. She bought the second ticket, garnering a very odd look from Ruby, and returned to the strange man. 

“Here. Are we done now?” 

“Indeed,” he said before sitting down beside her. Emma rolled her eyes and leaned down to dig her book, a worn copy of  _Peter Pan_ that she'd had since she was a child, out of her bag. It was one of the few things from her old life, as she'd come to think of it, that she'd brought with her. 

“Peter Pan, hmm? No wonder you've pirates on the brain, love.” The man's incredibly frustrating voice hovered close to her ear. 

“Do you mind?” Emma asked. 

“Not in the least,” he said with a wink. “Now, as we're sitting at the same gate I assume we're going to the same place. Perhaps we should properly introduce ourselves. Killian Jones.” 

Emma remained silent, her eyes trained on her book. When he didn't move, making it obvious that he wasn't planning to move until she responded, she looked up. 

“Emma. Now if you don't mind, I'd like to read.” 

“Well, Miss Emma, far be it from me to pull you away from such an enthralling adventure. But should you care to interact with a more realistic apparent pirate, you will know where to find me for the next few hours.” 

“Don't get your hopes up,” Emma muttered. 

The time passed quickly, between her book and her determined efforts to ignore the handsome-yet-annoying man who seemed intent on gaining her attention. Why he thought she'd give him the time of day after he'd threatened her was beyond her, but she suspected a man who looked and sounded like him was unused to hearing the word no. And in fairness, if it hadn't been for his threats, she may well have tried to take things beyond conversation – Gods knew it had been a long time since she'd been with anyone and taking care of her own needs was never as satisfying as finding someone else who knew what they were doing. As it stood, however, it was too much of a risk. He'd seen what she could do, and she couldn't risk him reporting her. Finally, the announcement came over the PA system. 

_The 6:15 bus to Chilliwack is now boarding. All passengers to Chilliwack please make your way to gate six to board. Please have your tickets ready to present to the driver. That's the 6:15 to Chilliwack. Thank you._

Emma stood quickly, snapping her book shut and swinging her backpack over one shoulder. She walked quickly to the door that lead to the gate, pulling her ticket out of her pocket as she did so. Once out the doors, she met the driver at the gate and handed him her ticket, shaking her head when he offered to put her backpack underneath the bus. She made her way quickly to the back of the bus, sitting in the one single seat on board. It was next to the bathroom, but Emma decided that two hours next to the bus bathroom was worth it if it kept her away from Killian Jones. Beyond his obvious attractiveness and knowledge of her secret – she really had to decide what to do about that before she left Chilliwack – she sensed that there was something dangerous about him. And for the first time in as long as she could remember, having been nearly fearless since she was a child, Emma Swan felt the stirrings of fear in her stomach. 

 


	2. Chapter 2

She'd been in Chilliwack three days without a sign of Killian Jones or any trouble that would have arisen from his divulging her secret. She wasn't about to say she'd relaxed, not by a long shot, but she had to admit that it seemed he'd held to his end of the bargain, saying nothing about what he'd witnessed since she'd bought the ticket for him. She was still confused as to what he'd meant by being tired of the looks people gave him, but she assumed it had something to do with his evident predilection for heavy black eyeliner and leather.

“Anything else that I can do for you?” The voice from beside Emma jolted her out of her thoughts. She looked up to see the waitress of the tiny cafe looking down at her.

“Thanks, no. I'm just about done here,” Emma said. The woman nodded and walked away as Emma drained the last of her coffee and dropped a few coins on the table before pushing her chair back and standing up. She glanced around as she left the cafe and her hand closed around a five dollar bill at the edge of the table closest to the door.

*****

Her first night in Chilliwack, she'd found a seedy motel with cheap nightly rates – it was obviously one of  _those_ motels, the ones that she got strange looks at when she insisted it would be a room for only one, and for at least a full night – but it put a roof over her head and the price was right. She'd found, however, that it was more difficult than she'd expected to make it in a small town, and despite never actually paying for food, three days in her money was running dangerously short. She had just enough to cover one more night, and then she was going to have to move on. Where or how, with no money, she had no idea, but she'd find a way. For now, she shoved her things into her backpack, and lay on top of the quilt on the hard bed, hand on the pocketknife she kept under her pillow wherever she went. 

She awoke the next morning with a start, hand tightening around her knife, not sure what had jolted her out of her slumber until the knock sounded loudly on her door again.

“If you're leaving today, gotta check out, missy,” the manager's voice rasped at her through the locked door.

“Sorry. Be right down,” Emma called back. She stood up off the bed and reached down for her backpack as she heard the old man thump down the stairs beside her room. Taking a quick glance in the dirty mirror on the wall, she rubbed at the sleep in her eyes before unlocking the door and leaving the room, anxiety swirling in her stomach as she tried to figure out how she was going to make it through not just that day, but those to come.

*****

Emma took a deep breath as she stared at the small cafe in front of her.  _Help Wanted,_ the red and white sign in the window cheerfully proclaimed. At 21, she'd never had a job before, but she didn't see what choice she had. She usually had control over her telekinesis now, as long as she kept herself calm, so maybe, she thought, it was time to start living a more honest life anyway. She bit her lip and pushed open the door, a small bell jingling above her head. It was quiet, probably due to it being late morning in the middle of the week. Emma was glad. She really didn't want an audience for this. An old woman was bustling around behind the long counter. 

“Um, hi,” Emma said as she approached.

The woman spun around. “Oh, hello dear. What can I do for you?”

“Well, I saw you were looking for help – I'm new in town, and could really use the work...”

The woman stepped back from the counter and eyed Emma carefully. “Have you ever worked in a restaurant before?”

Emma shook her head.

“Worked with food at all?”

Another headshake.

“Worked with people?”

Shake.

“Then why on earth should I give you a job? From the sounds of it, you haven't got any of the skills I need.”

Emma's shoulders sank. “I've had some,” she paused, “health problems in the past. I haven't been able to have a job. I'm a hard worker though, and my health is under control now.”

The old woman pursed her lips as she looked long and hard at Emma. “Go take the sign down from the window. You start now, and if you work out over a couple of shifts, I'll keep you on as long as you're useful.”

Emma grinned. “Thanks. You won't regret this, I promise, Mrs., ah...”

“Everyone calls me Granny,” the woman said.

“Thanks, Granny.” Emma moved back to the window to pull the sign down and walked back to the counter to hand it to Granny.

“Don't thank me yet. This isn't going to be easy on you, you know.”

Emma nodded.

“Now, get back here. Put your bag in that corner there, and then I want to explain a few things before it gets busy at lunch time.” Emma walked to the end of the counter and stepped through the waist-high swinging door, dropped her bag in the specified corner, and stood beside Granny at the cash register.

*****

A couple of weeks after she stepped into Granny's the first time, Emma began to feel anxious. She wasn't accustomed to staying so long – or so publicly – in one place. And yet, she'd found no reason to leave. There'd been no run-ins with the leather-clad Killian Jones, no signs that her secret had been leaked, she had a job, and she'd even moved in to a small apartment above the diner. There had been only one minor incident, when a customer had gotten a bit overly friendly and Emma had snapped at him. He'd complained to Granny, who'd given Emma a talking-to...and promptly shocked him by turning around and doing the same to him.

“And you, Victor! Emma may not have responded as she should but I know you. I've known you since you were knee high to me and you have never been capable of keeping your hands to yourself. You are a _doctor._ Start acting like it!” 

Emma had needed to sneak into the back to hide her giggles after seeing that. When she returned a few minutes later, the blonde man had left the diner and there were still snickers and whispers throughout. At the end of her shift, Emma noticed her tips were significantly higher than usual. So she couldn't even feel like that had been a negative experience, all told. Yet discomfort stirred in her stomach. It was the familiar instinct;  _get out, leave, now, before you're discovered._ She felt bad leaving Granny hanging though, after the woman had been so kind to her, and she had a good thing going on. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been this comfortable – she even managed a genuine smile some days. She pulled on her brown boots and headed downstairs to start her shift. As she tied an apron around her waist and stepped through the kitchen doors to arrive behind the counter, she heard a familiar voice ringing through the diner. 

“Well after that it was only natural, of course, I needed to be free! I certainly wasn't going to let them win. So then...”

Emma gripped the counter with one hand to steady herself as she shoved her order pad into the pocket of her apron.

“Are you alright, Emma?” Granny asked, a look of concern clear on her face.

“Fine, Granny.” Emma's voice was tight. “Who's already been seen to?”

“Everyone except Leroy's table over there,” Granny said, gesturing to the table where Killian Jones sat with Leroy, one of the local miners, and William Smee, a general troublemaker whose occupation Emma had yet to determine.

'Of course...” Emma mumbled under her breath. She grabbed a pen from the tin beside the cash register and plastered a smile on her face as she headed over to the table.

“What can I get for you today?” she asked, pushing her hair behind her ear. The three men looked up. The first to crack a smile was none other than Killian.

“We meet again, miss...” he paused and glanced at her nametag. “Emma.”

“So it would seem. Can I get you something to drink?”

“Suppose it's too early for rum, eh love?”

“Sorry. We don't start serving alcohol until four pm,” Emma said.

“Pity. Coffee, then, for myself,” Killian said. Leroy and Smee nodded their assent.

“Sure. I'll give you a minute to decide on what you want then. Back in a minute.” She made her way to the counter to fill three coffee mugs and breathed a sigh of relief. That had been significantly less painful than she'd expected. Placing the full mugs on a tray, she carried them to the table.

“Here you go, guys. So what can I get you?”

“Your number?” Smee said. To Emma's surprise, Killian glared at him.

“Have some decency, man!” he snapped before turning back to Emma. “That breakfast special up there for me, love,” he said, nodding towards the small menu board hung by the counter. Emma scribbled it down and looked towards Leroy.

“Uh, pancakes,” he said, seemingly also taken aback by Killian's rebuking of Smee. Adding that to the list, she looked at Smee.

“Bacon and eggs,” he squeaked, clearly intimidated by Killian.

 _Interesting,_ Emma thought as she wrote down the last order. “Sure. Thanks guys, back in a few with your breakfast.” She slid her pen back into her apron and headed back to give the order sheet to Granny in the kitchen.

*****

At the end of her shift, Emma went upstairs, changed into her workout clothes, and went back downstairs to go out for a run. She had just stepped outside when she heard a voice behind her.

“We meet again, Swan.”

Emma swung around. “How did you find out my last name?”

“Chilliwack's not a large town, love. It's not especially difficult to find out information if you're curious enough.”

“You didn't say anything about me.”

“You bought my ticket for me. I'm a man of my word, you know.”

Emma didn't know what to say to that. She stood in silence, the two of them simply looking at each other. They stood that way for a few moments before Emma found the words to break the silence.

“Well, uh, I was about to go for my run, so...I guess I'd better take off.”

Killian inclined his head. “But of course, Miss Swan,” he said.

As Emma turned to head on her usual route again, she raised an eyebrow. She found it hard to believe that this was the same man who'd threatened her at the bus station in Vancouver. He was, clearly, far more multifaceted than he'd originally appeared. As she picked up a quick jog, she smiled. Perhaps Chilliwack might be a place she could settle down after all.

*****

As he watched Emma jog away, Killian pulled his cell phone out of his pocket. Glancing at the text on the screen, he let out a breath before tucking it away again. He watched her until she turned the corner, then turned and headed in the opposite direction.

 


	3. Chapter 3

“ _Killian Jones, on the charge of driving under the influence of illegal substances, endangering the life of not only yourself but others as well, the jury finds you guilty. Sentencing will occur in one week. Please escort the defendant to holding custody.”_

 

Killian jolted upright, almost falling off David's couch as he did so. “Christ,” he muttered. He glanced at the clock and, seeing it was only four in the morning, sank back again, lifting his hand to rub at his forehead. He couldn't help but wonder if the nightmares would ever go away, though he supposed he deserved them. They weren't, after all, wrong – he had driven, stoned off his ass, with his four year old niece in the car.

What they didn't have was all the facts, and despite the best efforts of both Killian and his lawyer, they hadn't been successful in explaining them. The result had been a five-year sentence, though he'd gotten out on parole after half that thanks to good behaviour. As soon as his parole had been up, he'd left Vancouver. He couldn't handle the glares from his sister and everyone she knew, even though he knew he'd been right to do what he did. He'd saved his niece that night, and he thought that his idiot ex-brother-in-law's following actions should have proved that, but he was clearly wrong. Then there'd been the roadblock, the failed drug test...and the rest, as they said, was history. He groaned and sat up again, swinging his legs off the couch and heading down to the basement to work out his frustrations on David's gym equipment.

 

*****

The bell above the door to Granny's jingled cheerily as the door swung open. Emma looked up from where she was placing the cash from an order into the till and smiled at the handsome, curly haired man that entered.

“Hey,” she said, trying to ignore the flips that her stomach did. “Take a seat wherever you like, I'll be with you in just a sec.”

He didn't respond until he was at the counter. “Emma Swan?” he said.

Her brow furrowed and she looked up at him, sliding the cash register shut. “Um...yes?”

“My name is Sheriff Humbert, and I'm here to place you under arrest.” He frowned, but didn't seem angry, and his accented voice was tinged with regret.

Emma raised an eyebrow. “On what charges?”

“Please come with me, Miss,” he said.

“Granny,” Emma called.

The older woman came out from the kitchen. “Graham, what is the meaning of this?” she asked. “Are you intending to destroy my business by arresting my most excellent waitress in the middle of business hours?”

“I'm sorry, Granny. But I need to bring Emma to the station. We have a few questions for her.”

“Has she killed someone?”

Graham bit his lip. “No.”

“Is she guilty of something violent?”

 _Pause._ “No.”

“Then you'll go back to the station, Graham, and on my word Emma will report there the moment her shift is done and not one moment before.”

The sheriff's jaw dropped. “I-Granny-you...”

Granny raised an eyebrow. “Either order some food, Graham, or get out of my diner. Emma, get the sheriff a coffee for his trip back to the station.” She turned and re-entered the kitchen as Emma busied herself at the coffee maker. When she turned back to the counter to slide the paper cup across to the sheriff, she saw him disappearing through the door as the bell jingled.

*****

“Emma.” Granny's voice came from behind her as the last customers in the diner left an hour after the Sheriff's departure. Emma turned from where she was clearing their plates. “Do you know why Graham was here? I'm only going to ask you once. You'd best be truthful.”

Emma shook her head. “Honestly, Granny, I have no idea.” Her voice shook slightly, but Emma hoped it would pass for simple nervousness about being approached by the police. She knew she hadn't been caught in any of her shoplifting since arriving in Chilliwack, so she could only think of one thing that it could be – and she certainly wasn't going to involve Granny in that. The less Granny knew, the better for her. The old woman had been nothing but kind to Emma and she wasn't about to jeopardize her.

Granny pressed her lips together and nodded once. “Well, I suppose you'd best go down and see what he wants.” She gestured to the plates in Emma's hands. “Give me those, I'll finish up. I'll wait up until you get back. If you need help, call me first.”

Emma nodded. “Thanks, Granny,” she said. “For...believing in me.”

“You're doing well, Emma. I took a chance on you, and you've proven worth it. I can see you're a good girl.”

Emma turned away to leave the diner, biting her lip against the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes.

The bell jingled above her, and then she was alone in the night, even the main road quiet by this time. The storefronts threw odd shadows onto the road in the streetlights. Emma took a deep breath and began the short walk to the sheriff's station, dread building in her stomach with every slow step she took.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is *short*. I'm sorry! The next one will be longer. I'm in the midst of some major schedule changes right now and things are crazy, but once things are a bit more settled I'll be able to schedule in some regular writing time. It's been awhile since I updated last though, so I wanted to get something up.


	4. Chapter 4

The bored-looking receptionist at the sheriff's station barely looked up as Emma entered.

“Um, hello?” Emma said. “I'm looking for Sheriff Humbert.”

The receptionist gave her a slightly more comprehensive look before glancing at a list in front of her. “Swan?”

Emma nodded. The receptionist pushed a button on what seemed to be an intercom of some kind.

“Graham, the Swan girl is here.”

“Send her in, please, Ana.”

Ana looked up again. “Through those doors,” she said, gesturing behind her, “take your first left and it's the second door on your right.”

Emma nodded, thoroughly confused by the lack of security for her apparent arrest. She followed the directions she'd been given and easily found herself in front of a door marked SHERIFF. She knocked tentatively and didn't have to wait even a minute before she was called inside.

“Hello, Emma. Please, sit down,” the sheriff said, extending a hand towards the chair across from him.

“I'd rather stand,” Emma said, tensing.

“Emma, you're not in trouble. I simply have a few questions for you.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Then what was with the extremely public arrest today – while I was working, thanks so much for that, by the way.”

Graham tilted his head slightly to the side. “Admittedly that was uncalled for,” he said. “But I knew of no other way to reach you, being a newcomer to the town and all. There are few records of you; I couldn't locate a phone number or anything of the sort. Please, do sit.”

Emma leaned against the door, arms folded over her chest.

“Alright then,” he said. “What is your relationship to Killian Jones?”

“Excuse me?”

“Killian Jones. Troublemaker and general rapscallion. It hasn't gone unnoticed that you've been speaking with him.”

“Uh...twice, three times maybe? There is no 'relationship'....we met in the waiting room to take the bus here from Vancouver, I tried to ignore him. I've served him once or twice at Granny's. I don't really do relationships. Of any kind.”

A look of disbelief crossed Graham's face. “And on those apparently rare occasions, what have you discussed?”

“Are you freaking kidding me?” Emma said. Graham's face remained unmoved. “I don't know, the weather? What he wants to eat?” she continued. “They hardly even count as conversations, it's just been small talk. Like I said, it's usually been while I'm working, and I don't know the guy well enough to go any deeper than that. He wigged me out a little at the bus station in Vancouver, but he didn't actually do anything to me, it was just an instinct. I'm jumpy.”

Graham regarded her carefully for a minute before letting out a sigh. “Trust that instinct. I haven't caught him doing anything yet, but he's trouble. You evidently have nothing to do with him, however. You can go. But for your own good, Emma, stay away from him.”

“Sure, sheriff,” Emma said, turning to leave the office. As she walked down the hall and exited the station, she tried to suppress the sudden, intense urge to find Killian Jones again and figure out what it was that had the Chilliwack law enforcement so intent on keeping an eye on him.

*****

Finding Killian Jones, it turned out, was hardly a difficult undertaking.

When Emma arrived back at Granny's, he stepped out of the shadows at the side of the diner.

“I heard there was a bit of a ruckus today,” he said.

“What the hell were you into in Vancouver? I'm getting questioned just for talking to you.”

Killian grimaced. “I'm sorry about that, darling. You've nothing to do with my past – although to be fair, a good amount of that is built on the lies of others anyway. We're not so different, you and I.”

“Oh, we're different,” Emma said.

“Aye, but not as different as you might think, love.”

“Don't call me that.”

Killian inclined his head. “As you wish. Will you walk with me? I feel as though perhaps I owe you an explanation.”

Emma bit her lip and glanced inside. “Granny's waiting. I live upstairs. Give me a minute?”

Killian nodded.

Emma turned without a word and unlocked the diner door, heading inside to explain what she understood – admittedly not much – about what had happened at the sheriff's office that evening.

 


	5. Chapter 5

“You should probably know, the sheriff told me to stay away from you,” Emma said as she locked the door to the diner. She hadn't even looked around, but she could tell Killian was close enough to hear her.

“Did he now? You don't seem keen on taking his advice.”

Emma turned, jumping slightly when she found Killian right behind her. “I've never been one to do as I'm told, unless it suits me.” she said. “You seem to have information that could be useful to me, and I'm good at taking care of myself. It doesn't suit me to stay away right now.”

“Aye, I don't doubt your capabilities,” Killian said,”though I admit I'd rather hoped it was my dashing good looks that drew you out to me this evening.” 

Emma rolled her eyes. “Don't push your luck, Killian.”

“Apologies,” he said.

Emma shrugged and they started to walk. There was a park nearby that stayed fairly empty at night and she steered them in that direction. They walked in silence for several minutes before Killian spoke.

“I was in jail for two and a half years,” he said. When Emma didn't respond, he continued. “I was high – not something I'm proud of – and I drove with my young niece in the car. Something I'm less proud of,” he added quickly. He saw Emma's fists clench and he continued. “I swear on my life, Emma, it was necessary.” Emma heard the desperation in his voice and looked over at him. Killian closed his eyes for a minute before continuing.

“Remember when I said we were more alike than different?” Emma nodded. “Well, you have your telekinesis, and I have, well...” he trailed off for a minute before continuing. “There's nobody around, you can stop worrying.”

Emma stopped dead in her tracks and stared at him. “You hear people's thoughts.”

“Aye.”

“You asshole!  _That's_ how you knew about my powers, isn't it? You didn't see a god damn thing, you had me so fucking scared!” Emma snapped. “I've been so good about control the last few years and you had me thinking I'd  _slipped._ ” 

“I didn't know if I could trust you, I was hardly going to reveal myself,” Killian said matter of factly. Emma couldn't argue with that; it wasn't as though she was especially open herself, even with people she knew to be gifted. She swallowed hard.

“Okay. So. That aside. Driving stoned off your ass with your baby niece was necessary. Explain.”

Killian's eyes fell. “I was at my sister's home, taking care of her little one. Her then-husband came in and he tripped over a toy. When I heard the thoughts going through his head...well, the girl had to stay with me. I might've been intoxicated, Emma, but what he was considering as punishment for that tiny girl is absolutely unspeakable.”

Emma bit her lip hard. The pure love in Killian's voice was heartbreaking.

“Anyhow, I was pulled over at a roadblock and obviously taken in for impaired driving. They called my sister to come get the girl. She told me to stay away from them. I've not seen my niece since, though I learned through an acquaintance that my sister's imbecilic husband did eventually find his chance to raise a hand to her and thankfully my sister did have the sense to leave him then; though she's still not forgiven me. And there you have it, there's my story. The reasons for my evils. I'll leave it to you to decide if you should truly avoid me or not.”

“I'm sorry you lost your family,” Emma said quietly. “I can hear how much you loved your niece.”

“Aye, she was a sweet little one. And the attitude she had! I don't doubt she's giving her mother a world of trouble now,” he said with a grin.

“Are you still doing drugs?” Emma asked slowly.

“They have this opposition to them in prison, you see,” Killian said jokingly. “I won't deny that the longing is there. But they got me clean in prison, Emma, and that's how I intend to stay. It was how I coped. With fear, with...with the bloody annoyance of always having to tune out everyone's thoughts. With trying not to be caught. With trying to keep my family safe.”

“I guess I can understand that.”

“Then you're a kinder soul than my sister was. Mind, she never knew about my abilities, but she refused to believe that perhaps there was a reason for my problems.”

“I'm sorry,” Emma said.

Killian shrugged. “I won't deny I miss them. But it's her right to have me stay away. And I did drive impaired with Maia in the car. I simply saw no other possibility at the time.”

“I think you did the right thing, if that means anything.”

Killian smiled. “A great deal, Miss Swan.”

Emma allowed a small smile to cross her face.

“And you, Emma? What's your story?” Killian asked.

Emma felt her muscles tense. “Not much. You know. Found out I could move stuff with my brain, tried to hide it, tried to keep the government from killing me and my family.” She could feel Killian's stare boring into her back as she kept her gaze fixed firmly on the ground.

“There's more to it – to you – than that.”

Emma shrugged. “If you really must know, then read my mind,” she said sarcastically.

“I do try not to do that, you know,” Killian said.

“Well then, I guess you're not going to find out, are you?” Emma snapped.

“Oh, that's how you're going to play it, is it? I bare all, and you say absolutely nothing?” He waited and when she didn't respond, he continued. “You know, one of these days you're going to have to try something new, darling. It's called trust. It's hardly in my best interests to turn you in. Perhaps if you would trust someone for once in your life you'd have the chance to not be so lonely. One doesn't have to be a mind reader to see that you're desperate for human company.”

Killian turned on the heel of his boot and headed down the path in the opposite direction from where he and Emma had been walking. Emma waited a minute before turning quietly and watching him walk away, disappearing into the shadows of the treed park.

 


	6. Chapter 6

Several days passed and Emma saw no sign of Killian, despite his recent frequenting of Granny's.

“Emma...are you okay?” Mary Margaret asked as Emma sat her dinner in front of her. The schoolteacher had slowly and reluctantly (on Emma's part) become the closest thing Emma had had to a friend in a long time.

“Yeah, Mary Margaret. I'm great. D'you need anything else?”

“When do you get a break?”

Emma glanced around the diner. “Now's as good a time as any, I guess. It's nearly seven so we're not likely to get another rush anytime soon.”

“Good. Sit with me?”

Emma sighed. She was pretty sure this meant a 'talk' and she still wasn't very good at those. “Let me go and let Granny know. I'll be back in a couple minutes.”

She disappeared into the back and came back a couple of minutes later as promised, a plate of fries in her hand. She set it on the table and slid into the booth across from Mary Margaret.

“So what's new?” Mary Margaret asked casually.

Emma shrugged. “Not much. You know I don't really do anything. I work, I go home – which coincidentally is right above my work, so really I only leave this building if I'm going grocery shopping or for a run.”

“Mmm hmm....” Mary Margaret said around a sip of her chocolate milkshake. She swallowed before continuing. “I haven't seen that guy...Killian? around lately.”

Emma tensed at the sound of Killian's name and Mary Margaret smiled triumphantly. “I knew something was bothering you. What happened there?”

Emma shook her head. “Nothing. Literally nothing happened. We were talking one day, I sid something dumb, he took off. Haven't seen him since.”

“Have you tried to get in touch with him? I'm sure if you just explained...it seemed like he likes you, Emma. And you've gotta admit he's cute.”

Emma blushed and stared down at her plate of fries. “I don't have any contact information for him. Besides, I'm pretty sure I screwed things up too badly.”

Mary Margaret leaned forward conspiratorially. “He lives with Leroy. That's why they're always together; they're roommates. And...” she slid a piece of paper across the table. “Leroy owed me a favour. That's Killian's cell number. You know, just in case you decide you want to get in touch with him.”

Emma stared at the small square of paper for a minute before grabbing it and stuffing it into her pocket. “I, um, I should get back to work,” she said, standing up. “Uh...thanks Mary Margaret.” she dashed into the back carrying the barely-touched plate of fries and spent the rest of her shift acutely aware of the number-adorned paper burning against her thigh.

 

*****

That night Emma collapsed on her bed, exhausted from her shift. She pulled the paper from her pocket and stared at it for several minutes before dropping it to the side.

“In no universe is calling him a good idea,” Emma muttered. A second later she picked up her phone.

_Killian, it's Emma. Hope you don't mind. Just wanted to say sorry about the other night. Didn't mean to shut you out. Hope you'll come back to Granny's sometime. E._

She typed in the number that she'd already committed to memory and sent the message before she could convince herself to delete it. Sighing, she dropped her phone on the floor beside her bed and rolled over, falling asleep almost instantly.

*****

_They were talking, but she wasn't retaining any of the conversation. She was too focused on the feeling of his fingers laced through hers, his thumb occasionally brushing over the back of her hand causing her stomach to do flips. He laughed, and Emma didn't think she could come up with a better sound. Then he stopped, taking her other hand to turn her towards him. His smile had turned gentle as he looked at her._

 

“GOOD MORNING CHILLIWACK!” blared the radio announcer's voice, jolting Emma awake as her alarm went off. She sat bolt upright and rubbed her eyes.

“You have got to be kidding me,” she mumbled, her stomach still doing flips at the memory of the dream. She pulled on her jeans and black button-up shirt, shoving her phone into her pocket without noticing the new message indication flashing on the locked screen.

 

The day was long, slow, and monotonous. When she finally headed upstairs at the end of her shift, grateful for once to have worked the breakfast shift instead of dinner she changed into jogging pants and a t-shirt and tied her hair into a ponytail to go for a run, needing to stretch her muscles after the tediously slow day at work. As her jeans fell to the floor, she heard the 'clunk' of her cell phone in her pocket. When she was finished changing, she picked it up and quickly checked to see if she'd gotten any messages during the day.

 

_Hello Emma, Of course i don't mind though I'm rather curious where you acquired my number. I've quite a busy day tomorrow, but I'd like to see you. Perhaps we can settle our differences when you're finished work. Text me when you've got a moment. -K._

 

Emma bit her lip hard. After the dream she'd woken up from this morning, there was no doubt that the attraction she'd felt to Killian nearly since the first time they'd met was becoming harder and harder to mask, and she couldn't help but worry about what that would mean for her.

At the same time, after the dream she'd woken up from this morning, she was beginning to find it harder to care.

She tapped out a quick reply and then grabbed her keys and headed down the stairs to go for her run.

*****

She set her brush down on the bathroom counter, satisfied that her blonde curls were as tamed as they were going to be. She leaned towards the mirror to inspect her eyeliner and then stepped out of the small bathroom. Taking a deep breath, she pulled on her knee-length brown boots and red leather jacket. She stepped through the door and locked it behind her before walking downstairs to meet Killian.

“Emma,” he said as she stepped out of the diner. She tried not to think about the way her heart sped up at the way he said her name.

“Hi, Killian,” she said. “Look, about last time,” she started.

He held up a hand. “It's nothing, love. I'm sorry I pushed you. It was highly ungentlemanly of me and I regret my actions deeply. It's what's kept me away these last few days. Shall we go for our walk?”

Emma nodded and the two walked side by side in silence for several minutes until they reached the same park as last time.

When the silence was finally broken, Emma was stunned to hear her own voice. “I was sixteen when I found out. I was kissing my boyfriend and I knocked over a lamp...that was on the other side of the living room. He didn't catch on. I ran. I ran home and then, that night, when my parents were asleep, I took a few things in my backpack and I ran. I haven't seen my parents since, and Chilliwack is the first place I've stayed more than a month in almost as long as I can remember.” Her voice caught. “I'd been really close with my parents, especially my mom. She was my best friend. I couldn't let them be endangered by knowing about me. It was...it was better if they thought I was dead.” She turned away and stared off towards the trees. “Maybe it would have been better if I was.”

“Hey,” Killian said, placing a hand gently on her shoulder and turning her towards him. “I'll not hear any of that. I had the luxury of staying where I was because my abilities could be passed off as a headache if I was careful. Until you had the opportunity to learn, yours were much more obvious to observers. You did what you did to protect your family. And while I don't doubt that they'd have wanted to help you, you made an incredible sacrifice. You're a bloody hero, Swan.”

Emma chuckled and closed her eyes briefly before rubbing at them to try and stem the tears that were threatening to spill over. “So much for my makeup,” she said weakly.

“Your makeup's fine, Emma.” Killian's voice, already insanely attractive thanks to his accent, had dropped lower in both volume and pitch as he looked Emma dead on in the eyes. “Thank you for opening up to me.”

Emma stared at him for a minute, trying to comprehend what had just happened, and before she understood what she was doing she had grabbed the front of Killian's jacket, yanking him towards her and kissing him solidly. She felt him freeze in surprise and she dropped his jacket immediately, stepping back.

“Oh, god, I'm...I'm so sorry...” she stammered.

“Don't,” he replied, closing the distance between them and bending his head to kiss her again, more slowly and gently than her unthinking attempt had been and lifting his hand to card lightly through her hair. His fingers tangled in her curls as she lifted her arms to rest them on his shoulders, her hands coming together behind his neck and tracing small patterns at the base of his skull.

*****

Emma woke up the next morning in her apartment above Granny's, lying on top of her quilt and still fully clothed in her jeans and tank top with a pair of strong arms wrapped around her. She smiled and wiggled herself around to face Killian, cuddling into his t-shirt clad chest.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he said softly.

“Hi,” she said. “Thanks for, well, you know...”

Killian smiled. “Something about you has a hold on me, Emma. I can't say just what it is. But you have my word that I will always be here for you.”

Emma bit her lip lightly, unsure how to respond to a statement like that. She'd never met anyone quite as intensely passionate as Killian Jones.

She settled for lifting her head to kiss him softly; a long, slow kiss with no expectations, only exploration and, though she didn't know where it had come from, intense emotion.

If she wasn't careful, she knew she was in serious danger of falling in love with the man in front of her.

She wasn't sure she wanted to be so careful anymore.

 


End file.
